Marepocalypse Now!
by Lethally Insane
Summary: Free Writer has been preparing for the mating season. After all, for the last two mating seasons in Ponyville he's been shut in a closet. This time, he swears it will be different, and his friends are sure making that way. Meet, Iron Ore, Writer's friend from school turned editor in Manehatten,and Grasshopper a belligerent drunk with too many complexes to count. This is a CRACKFIC!
1. Part 1: An Out of Towner

A lone pony peaked out from a closet. He was young, not much older than seventeen. He glanced around, then stepped out. Breathing a sigh of relief, he stepped downstairs.

"Thanks, Mr and Mrs. Cake," he said, walking towards the door. " I wouldn't have made it through this year without you."

"No problem, Free." Mr. Cake called from the back. " Next year, just don't go out. I didn't until I met Mrs. Cake."

"I'll take your advice, Mr. Cake." he said. " Next mating season, I'll be ready."

He stepped outside; he had been copped up inside the Cake's closet for five days straight. He rubbed a bite mark that he had received on day one. _Serves me right, that's what I get for locking myself out._ He ran a hoof through his mane. He had roughly a year to prepare. He walked briskly to his house on the outskirts of Ponyville. He muttered darkly under his breath as he fiddled magically with his door's lock.

Back at Sugarcube Corner, Mr. Cake looked out the window at the fastly disappearing Free Writer. He had been a frequent at the shop since a few years back. He had came to the door roughly one day into the season. Nursing a love bite on his ribs, he had been dodging the hordes of horny females for at least two hours. Naturally, Mr. Cake had hid him in a closet until the season had died down. _I hope his opinion of the opposite sex isn't too damaged,_ He thought, _after all, it's really just hormones._

He turned his attention to a _slightly_ more important matter, a wife to satisfy…..

 **ONE YEAR LATER…..**

Part 1: an out of towner.

(Perspective: Free Writer)

I looked over my notes and schematics. I pushed my glasses onto the bridge of my snout. I had queued up some classical music on an old phonograph my parents had left me. It didn't suit my tastes as much as metal, but it was good concentrating music. The last layer of the barrier would go up today, the eve of mating season. I had invested lots of time and bits into mare proofing the house, but it would all be worth it in the next five days. I chuckled to myself, no one would get to me this year.

As it turns out, last year's debacle had been the closest call, for me at least. I had moved to Ponyville when I was sixteen from Fillydelphia. Back in the city, mating season was much more orderly. I had barely heard of it until sixteen; that was my first ponyville mating season. I had made it without being caught by doing what I always did, hiding in closets. It seemed now like I had a habit of it. This year was going to be different. I had prepared much more than those years.

I readied the last phase of the spell, a aura the color of ink coated my house. Then, it shimmered into invisibility. It would hold the unicorns from disintegrating the steel bars I had installed on the windows to keep the earth ponies and pegasi out. I had even put a grate over the fireplace. Apparently, some of the craftier mares had tried to lower themselves into some holdouts' homes through them. I wasn't leaving anything to chance. I looked out the window. The hordes were forming now. Figures were emerging from houses. _No doubt as horny as ever,_ I thought. I saw a train puffing into the station. A few figures got out, I hoped they knew what time of year it was. The figures from town started moving toward the station. _Poor bastards,_ I thought. I knew what came next, and it wasn't going to be a happy experience for them. I took off the classical music from the phono and switched to a more modern CD player. The sweet, sweet sound of Dragon's Bane came over the speakers. I began to hum as the mating season began.

(Prospective: Iron Ore)

I stepped off the train, looking at my former hometown, breathing in the scent of fresh flowers and grass. I looked around the station. It was desolate. I glanced at a calendar, instantly realising the horrible truth. It was Celestia damn mating season. I turned to see the train leaving and the mares setting in. The station master was boarded up in his booth. I had one chance. I hoped that Free Writer was in town. He had been a good friend in school and when I had moved to Manehatten to pursue an editorial career, he had been behind me one hundred percent. I hopped on to the tracks next to the warning sign. _Buck the rules_ , I thought, _it's mating season._ I galloped around the outside of the village, heading towards the hill that my friend's house was on. I was halfway there when I started to see shadows in the trees; they were catching up.

"Omigosh," I heard one of them say. " is that Iron Ore?"

"No?" one replied. " I used to have such a crush on him back in school."

"I thought he was a huge stoner." another said.

"I'm not a stoner!" I yelled over my shoulder.

I increased my efforts, my track and field training kicking in. I might not have had magic like Writer, or wings like Grasshopper, but I was fast on my feet. I booked it to Writer's house; suddenly, there were no hoofbeats behind me. I had reached the door, knocking rapidly. I glanced back at the woods. Just beyond them on the edges of the field were at least twenty mares. The door opened, and Free Writer pulled me in.

"Hey, Iron," he said to me, nonchalantly. " I thought that visit was today. How are you?"

"Pretty good," I replied, catching my breath. " I just wished I had some warning."

"Sorry," he said, " I was a bit caught up in the last bit of my defences."

"Are they still out there?" I asked.

"Yep," he replied. " but my distraction worked well."

"What distraction?" I asked.

"I put those male model calendars out across the yard." he replied. " Hopefully it will keep their ovaries occupied until they forget about you."

"Wow, man," I chuckled. " didn't know you swung that way."

"I don't." he deadpanned.

We broke into laughter as he resumed his CD player. I had got it for him for his eighteenth birthday, six months back.

"Dude," I said, chuckling. " still listening to power metal?"

"You know it." he replied. " That and metalcore. Have you given Amon's Blessing a review yet?"

"Yeah, man," I said, thinking back to their album _Twilight of the Thunder Pony._ " that's some heavy stuff."

"You want something to drink?" he asked.

"Cider, on the rocks." I replied.

"It's not even lunch time, bro." he joked.

"Buck it," I said.

"It's mating season." he finished.

(Perspective: Grasshopper)

I rubbed my eyes groggily. Upon seeing the empty cider tankards scattered around the room, I tried to remember what happened last night. For a split second I almost forgot: I was hungover. This, however, was quickly reminded to me by a splitting headache. I tried to get to my hooves. _What day is it?_ I stumbled towards a wall calendar in my room. It was June tenth! What? No, it couldn't be June tenth. I looked out the window. They were already out.

"No, no, no, no." I muttered under my alcohol spliced breath.

I quickly stepped to the next room. Marmalade was sprawled out on the bed. I shook the blonde unicorn awake.

"Wha?" he said deliriously.

"Dude," I said. " it's mating season."

"Shit." he responded almost instantly.

"What do we do?" I asked, drawing the curtains closed.

"Free Writer." he answered. Referring to our mutual friend.

"What about him?" I asked.

"He said that he was prepared for the season." Dark continued. " If we can get to him, we might be able to hide."

"What if we're caught?" I asked.

"It's better than waiting for them to gang rape us in here." he concluded.

"Fair enough." I replied. " I'll try by the air, I can scout ahead for you."

"Alright," he said. " let's go."

I opened a window and flew out. It didn't help that I was still hung over. I wobbled through the sky, flying from cloud to cloud. I saw Marmalade leave the house, making his way through the streets. I looked off to the right, spotting a crowd of mares around a blue box. I moved a cloud over to them so I could hear their conversation. I looked closer, _is that Dinky Doo?_ It was, she was standing guard against the crowd of mares.

"Let us in, kid." one said. " We know he's in there."

"Sorry, Colgate." she replied cheerfully. " Mommy's already in there with my new Daddy."

"Why can't she share?!" Colgate said, exasperated. " I didn't even get one last year."

"Mommy told me not to let anyone in." she said.

"Fine, Dinky," she said, " but I'll be back. It's only day one after all."

I turned back and flew to Writer's house. I hoped Marmalade had made it. _Writer should let him in,_ I thought, _after all, they both study together._ I landed outside the field. Marmalade crept up beside me.

"The town was clear." he reported. " they were heading to the train station."

"Good," I said, " Free's house is just ahead."

We ran up a path to his house. we stopped at the door. I knocked quickly, and he opened.

"In." he said.

"Thanks."

Iron Ore was already sitting on the couch with some cider. Free Writer held his own, with magic. He looked at us with a sly look on his face.

"You forgot, didn't you?" he asked.

"N-no," I said. " we just thought we would ride out the season with some friends."

"Right," he chuckled, handing me his drink. " I'll grab one for Marmalade, and we can start."

"Start what?" I asked.

"History of mating season." Iron Ore spoke up from the couch.

"Oh, sweet Celestia." I said, facehoofing.

(Perspective: Marmalade)

I sat down on the couch, downing the cider that Free Writer had given me. He had pulled out an old film projector and drew the shades. An old timey countdown started and a disembodied voice began.

"Mating season," It started. " one of the most feared times in the year. That is, for the common male. You may be wondering, why have your female friends become ravenous? The short answer is, hormones. You see, back when the ponies were just tribes, mating season was a ritual participated in by both sexes. However, as the female population grew, the males couldn't keep up."

"Thus," it said. " the normally monogamous ponies temporarily descended into a polygamous frenzy. This made the male population extremely uneasy; however, their pleas for suffrage were finally answered shortly after our glorious princesses took power. They introduced the concept of permamating. In this process, the mare permanently leaves her scent on the male, thus warding off other females in the heat."

"This satisfied the male ponies' distaste for polygamy," it continued, " while also allowing the females to find mates. Now, to move on to tips for hiding, rule number 1: alway-"

The film cut off as it melted into itself. Making a warped sound, the projector started to smoke.

"Ah, shit, shit, shit, shit." Writer muttered, fanning it.

"Well, now what?" I asked. "I feel like I just watched a grade school puberty video."

"I don't know," he muttered. " I guess we wait."

"You got beds?" I asked.

"And Booze." he added.

"I'm down for that." I said.


	2. Part 2: Horny, Horny Oxen Free!

**DAY TWO**

Part Two: Horny, Horny, Oxen Free!

(Perspective: Free Writer)

I sat in a chair facing a window. The bags under my eyes felt like bricks. I glanced at the clock. It was six in the morning. I'd pulled an all nighter. I took one last glance at Ponyville basking in the rising sun. _Wait,_ I thought, _what's that?_ I pulled out some binoculars from a drawer in the coffee table. I looked out the windows again. A single pink pony was bouncing up the hill. _Sweet Celestia, no,_ I thought, _I don't even know if all of my barriers will stop her._ I galloped up the stairs.

"Wake the buck up!" I yelled down the hallway. " We got trouble!"

I rushed back down the stairs, _It was around here somewhere._ I pulled a mini tramp out from under the guestroom bed. I opened the grate and shoved it in the fireplace. There was a knock on the door. She was here. I gulped and walked to the peep hole.

Pinkie Pie stood outside.

"Hi, Pinkie." I gulped.

"Hi there, Free Writer!" she said through the door. " Can I come in?"

"Pinkie," I said. " I can't do that, you and I both know what's happening right now."

"I'll just have to find my own way in." she giggled.

The others were down now. I looked at them.

"Prepare for contact." I said.

"The Buck?" Iron said.

"Pinkie figured out that we're here." I stated calmly.

"Celestia, no." Grassy muttered.

"What do we do?" I asked.

"I know." Marmalade said finding a glass of cider.

"Writer," he said, downing it. " get me a wool sock."

"Wait what?" Grasshopper asked.

"She only needs one of us," he said. " I can draw her attention for awhile. If she catches me, maybe if I buck her hard enough, she'll call it quits for the season."

"You don't need to do this." Iron said.

"Oh, but I do." he said. " I probably won't get laid in any other circumstance. Grasshopper, you should know, I can barely carry a conversation anyway."

There was a crash and a spring. There Pinkie was, sitting on a hastily placed mini tramp. It was now or never.

"Horny, Horny Oxen Free!" she giggled.

"The buck?" I said.

"Oh, that's this part's title." she said.

"What?" Iron asked.

"Hey!" a disembodied voice said. " They don't know that?!"

"What?" she replied. " It was so well placed."

"No it really wasn't." it argued.

A hand appeared out of the air, and flicked her on the back of the head.

"Hey, that wasn't nice." she pouted.

"Deal with it, I'm the writer." it said fading away.

"Fine." she huffed.

"Anyway?" she said turning to us. " Which one of you stallions wants to party?"

We looked at Marmalade. Grasshopper found a wool sock and gave it to him. We saluted him.

"Just get in the Celestia damn closet." he said flatly.

We huddled in the closet and locked the door. Marmalade was alone with Pinkie, and we didn't want to think about what happened next.

(Perspective: Marmalade)

I unlocked the door, and moved towards the grate.

"Inevitably," I started. " you and I are going to buck. I know this, and I've accepted that."

"Oh?" she giggled.

"However," I said, grinning, unhooking the grate, " you'll have to catch me first."

I bolted out the door towards sweet apple acres. I would make my last stand there. Running through the woods, I looked back. She was following me. She bounced along at near the same pace I was running. I bounded between apple trees, I was nearing the center of the orchard. _Here, at least,_ I thought, _no one can hear me scream._ I stopped, letting her catch up to me.

"Any last words?" she asked flirtatiously, catching up to me.

I pondered this for a second. _Buck it,_ I thought, _it's mating season._

"I'm a steaming cauldron of sexual needs right now." I replied.

"Kinky." she said, leaping at me.

(Prospective: Iron Ore)

"Well," Free Writer spoke after five minutes of silence. " I've spent last three mating seasons in a closet at some point. Buck my life."

"Would you have rather have taken on Pinkie?" I asked him.

"Good point." he shrugged. " I'll take hiding in a closet to that."

"Finally coming out of the closet, eh?" Grasshopper piped up beside us.

"Dick." Free dismissed him.

"Sucker." Grasshopper sniggered.

"Let's get out of here." Free Writer sighed, opening the door.

We walked out into the foyer. I sat on the couch again as Grasshopper went for the cider. Free Writer passed out on a large blue chair. Grasshopper came back in and handed me a glass.

"Still a stoner?" he prodded.

"I never was." I replied.

"That's a lie." he argued.

Ever since I had let my mane grow out as a teen, people had speculated that I was a 'stoner'. Then, I started hanging around with Free Writer. He had never accused me of being a stoner except in the context of a jest. Then again, he knew what actual stoners looked like. He insisted that I didn't really fit that bill.

"Should we let him sleep?" I asked, changing the subject.

"I don't see why not." Grasshopper replied. " I'll take the first watch."

"Alright." I said.

 **A FEW HOURS LATER**

(Perspective: Grasshopper)

I scanned Ponyville for the upteenth time with a pair of binoculars. I saw two figures walking out of one of Sweet Apple Acre's orchards. They were coming up the path together. Could it be them? They were drawing closer now. Pinkie and Marmalade stopped at the door, Pinkie bouncing in place.

"Marm?" I called through the door.

"Yeah, Grassy?" he replied.

"Is she, uh, gonna go for us now?" I asked.

"Naw, man." he said.

"You didn't." I said, understanding dawning.

"We did." Pinkie said. " He's mine now. We just need a slightly more comfortable place. To stay."

I groaned and opened the door to a ecstatic Pinkie and a dirt covered Marmalade. They stepped in and immediately went upstairs. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a barrel of cider. I wouldn't need the glasses; it would be gone by the time I was done.

(Perspective: ?)

A sand colored Unicorn looked through the telescope at the house on the hill. She murmured to herself, rubbing a very private place. She had gotten so close last year. He had been within her grasp. She remembered his bony ribs against her tongue. _It will be different this year,_ she thought to herself. She had been scanning Ponyville for a day, waiting for when she would strike. She licked her lips and rubbed harder. _Soon, very soon,_ she thought.

(Perspective: Free Writer)

I opened my eyes. I was sprawled out on a large blue recliner. Grassy was passed out on the couch with a empty barrel of cider between his forelegs like a lover. Iron was watching the window. I heard a thumping upstairs.

"Who's upstairs?" I asked.

"Marmalade and Pinkie." he said, grimacing.

"Oh." I said. " Hang on a sec."

I walked upstairs to the door that the noise was emanating from.

"WILL YOU STOP BUCKING SO LOUD!" I screamed through the door.

The banging intensified, then stopped.

I walked back down stairs and found Iron still scanning the town.

"What's up with them?"

"They permamated." He replied.

I faced hoofed. I couldn't deal with this. I had to make sure I was going to get off scot free in the heat. I decided to follow Grassy's lead. I flopped back into the recliner.

"Uh, wondrous." Iron said, turning back to the window.

(Prospective: Iron Ore)

Free Writer was knocked out on his recliner, Grassy had drunk himself to sleep, and Marmalade and Pinkie were still bucking. I kneaded my brow with my hoof. Writer had made it seemed so planned out; it probably was, too. Then, Pinkie had shown up, effectively destroying said plan. I had lived in Ponyville my entire life, save the year in Manehatten. Writer had shown up when I was twelve, straight outta Filly. We started hanging out when we were both fourteen.

Why shouldn't we? We were both mature for our ages, had a similar taste in music. We were also cynical metalheads with an extreme hatred of the melodrama that had been associated with our age. After finishing school, I had moved to Manehatten to pursue a career as an editor of a music magazine. Free Writer had stayed behind, studying the extreme amount of literature discovered in the castle of the Two Sisters by Twilight Sparkle. That's how he knew Marmalade, they had been assigned to study and learn the magic. I think they had a third colleague but I had never met her.

I took one last scan and fell to sleep. I would need my rest.

 **Author's Note: Hi guys, hoped you enjoyed the first bits of Marepocalypse Now! I'll add the rest very soon, see you then!**


End file.
